Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter

by Martine Carlsson

  “I know that plant,” Selen said. “It’s greater celandine. It grows near the woods. In small doses, it’s effective to cleanse the body, but it’s so toxic that I’ve never used it much.”

  Kowahya opened the book on another page and made the same moves. Selen nodded that he knew the plant as well. The yellow flower reminded Louis of elecampane. The Child searched for a third plant and showed them small, red berries.

  “I know them too,” Selen said. “Bearberries.” He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Kowahya tapped on the book. He looked around and picked up a small cup he placed near the drawing. As a lid, he placed his flat hand on top to mark a full cup. With gestures, the old man explained how to crush and prepare the plants to get a mixture. Louis didn’t grasp all of it, but it was crystal clear for Selen, who nodded repeatedly. When he was done, Kowahya smiled at Selen and laid a hand on his arm. The old man pondered an instant before he picked up the book with the plants and put it in Selen’s hands. In a box, he reached for several small pouches that he lay on the book and gestured towards the shelf from where he had taken the jars. Once he understood, Selen bowed and gaped several times like a fish out of the water before hurrying to take his samples.

  “This is really kind of you…” Louis said.

  Kowahya grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the cabinet. Volumes of different sizes and leather colors were pressed against each other. The gilt titles were in ancient Trevaldian. Despite that the village was in the middle of the jungle, they were amazingly well conserved. A large move of the old man’s arm invited Louis to make his choice among the books. For an instant, he looked as flabbergasted as Selen had been.

  “Why?” Louis asked. “They are yours.”

  Kowahya looked at him with sorrow. Louis guessed it was a difficult decision. The old man’s voice wobbled as he spoke. “Yes, these books are my people’s heritage,” Eliot translated with less emotion. “I wax this cabinet and use techniques to preserve them from time, but I am old. Maybe my children won’t have such patience. Maybe their capacities will alter, and one day, they will use these books as litter. I don’t want this to happen. Please, take them. This is our memory. The world needs to know.” Eliot’s voice quavered. “Don’t let our civilization die in vain.”

  “I won’t,” Louis said, staring at the old man.

  Lissandro joined him and opened one of their bags. When he had emptied it of all he judged useless, he filled it with books. “I will make the way back half-naked gnawing on my nails, but I will save as many books as I can.”

  “Yes. Me too,” Louis said, helping him with the task.

  “As much as I understand you, guys, if we want these books and the antidote to make the way back, we need to survive,” Kilda said. She turned towards Kowahya. With gestures, she made him understand that they needed food. Kowahya raised a finger and left the room.

  When the old man came back, they were done packing. Kowahya was nervous and paced around them, shouting words.

  “He wants us to go,” Eliot said.

  “Is something wrong?” Kilda asked, worried.

  “It’s the elders. They see you…us as a threat. Not only do they want to execute us, but they want to seal the gate. They fear more of our sort will come. It won’t be long until they notice we are no more in your cage. We need to leave. Now.” Kowahya pressed the bag with the food in Kilda’s hands and pushed them towards the doorway.

  They followed a hallway to a staircase leading to gardens. Kowahya shook his hand forward then twisted it to the right. Once again, he used the words to compel them to make haste. Kilda and Lissandro ran outside.

  “Wait.” Selen pivoted on the stairs. “What about the stone statues? Will we change if we leave?”

  Kilda stopped. Eliot translated and exclaimed back, “You are no Children. It shouldn’t work on you. But it’s better if you don’t look back.”

  Louis made a few steps down the stairs. He halted and turned back. Grabbing Kowahya by the arm, he looked at him in the eyes. “Come with us.” Puzzled, the old man looked at Eliot for a translation. “Come with us. We can carry you,” Louis insisted.

  For a moment, Kowahya seemed to hesitate. He laid a hand on the granite pillar at his side and stared at Louis with a sad smile. Two sore words escaped his mouth.

  “This is my home.”

  “We will return,” Louis said. He felt a hand pulling at his.

  “Louis. We have no time,” Selen whispered.

  Louis gave a last glance at Kowahya and followed his companions.

  Charged like mules, they hurried furtively behind the huts, the dog running at their side. It wasn’t long until they bumped into a villager. The woman’s face was young and slightly distorted. Against her naked body, she cradled a baby whose little hand tapped repeatedly on one of her breasts. Louis expected her to scream for help anytime. Instead, her lips curved, and she beamed at them, unaware of the danger they could have represented. Sympathy invaded Louis. He laid a hand on her neck, caressed her silky, tangled black hair, and gently pushed her away.

  “Go. Go home.”

  Though she didn’t understand, she went on. Louis watched her walk away. Victims, villains, and innocents. A society of monsters, but a society of people. How many have suffered for the foolishness of a handful? How many here…and how many at home? Louis put down all his bags.

  His companions gazed at him with impatience. “Louis, what are you doing? We have no time,” Lissandro pressed him.

  Louis strode towards Kilda. “Give him to me,” he ordered her, pointing at Eliot.

  Kilda moved the monk from off her back and stared at Louis with inquisitive eyes. “What do you plan to do?” she quizzed, handing Eliot over.

  Louis didn’t answer and grabbed Eliot under the shoulders. He was a bit heavy, but the ropes prevented him from fighting back.

  “What do you want?” Eliot asked, frightened. “Will you kill me?”

  Still silent, Louis dragged him into the village’s alley. Although their presence attracted the attention of many, the gathering crowd didn’t react. Once Eliot’s body wiggled on the sand, facedown, Louis let go of him.

  “You wanted to come here at any cost.” Louis thought of the people in the hospital. A hand blocking Eliot, he unsheathed his dagger.

  Eliot’s eyes widened. “No. Don’t do that! I can still help you.”

  “By any means.” Louis thought of their conflicts along the road. He hauled up Eliot to his knees and cut his bounds.

  “I…I can give you Mauger!” Eliot struggled to free himself from the rope.

  “Now, be my guest,” Louis said and, with a swift move, sliced Eliot’s ankles. The monk howled with pain. “Enjoy your home.” Louis rose and strode back to his companions.

  “Please. Don’t leave me here!” the monk cried behind him.

  Louis didn’t even grant him a last glance. He picked up his bags and resumed his jog.

  Nuharinni soldiers swarmed over the gatehouse. From a collapsed tower nearby, they hauled stones towards the door. The chief with the ibex’s horns commanded the operations. Louis’s group halted behind a low wall.

  “We need to cross the doorway before they seal it,” Kilda said.

  “I don’t see how we can manage that without being seen,” Selen said. “Maybe with a diversion.”

  “So, this is how it ends?” Kilda asked.

  “Ends?” Louis repeated.

  “Only one of us needs to make it back,” Kilda said, fixing Louis. “Who did you choose?”

  “Selen,” Louis said, “give her your bag.”

  Much to Kilda’s surprise, Selen handed her his bag. “Take it, Kilda.”

  “I won’t leave anyone behind,” Louis said. “But if someone should survive, it’s you.”

  “Josselin is waiting for you,” Selen said.

  Though moved by their words, Kilda shook her head slowly. “Nothing nor no one is waiting for us anymore,” she whispered. She unsheathed her sword. “Let
’s make a run for that door.” Lissandro put a hand on her shoulder.

  They rose and drew out their weapons. Louis gazed at the hysterical little men moving about. To make their way through that crowd meant to slice a path with their swords. If only they could scare them.

  “They have spears,” Selen said. “We have no shields.”

  “No,” Lissandro said, “but we have alcohol.” He grinned, looking at the dog. “Give me an instant.”

  While Lissandro hurried back towards the village, Louis, Selen, and Kilda crouched down again and waited. A short while later, Lissandro returned with a vase and a firebrand. He gave Louis the wooden stick to hold and emptied the dog’s barrel into the vase. Once the recipient was filled, he tucked a piece of cloth in the neck.

  “We will only have a few seconds,” Lissandro said. “Ready?”

  They nodded. Lissandro lit the cloth with the firebrand. They jumped over the low wall and raced towards the door. The dog scooted by Louis up to the esplanade. In a trice, the Children would look in their direction. Lissandro threw the vase onto one of the statues. The feathers that adorned it burst out in flames as well as everything combustible around. The Nuharinni turned their attention to the fire. Some raised their arms to protect their faces. Some stared, bewildered. None tried to put out the flames.

  Their group crossed the esplanade without a hitch, but once on the stairs, the effect of their distraction weakened. Impelled by the screams of their chief, the warriors turned towards them and attacked, spears forward. The dog waited for them under the doorway and barked frenetically. With an eye on Selen, Louis raised his sword and drove back his assailants. Unwilling to hack through childlike bodies, he aimed for the spears. The Nuharinni leaped, swerved, crouched, and yapped. Their bared teeth shone as white as their heinous eyes burned black. At his side, his companions spun their swords in large, defensive moves while they stepped back towards the exit. If they could reach the door, they would win the advantage over their adversaries. There were only a few yards left. Yet, they couldn’t all pass at the same time.

  “Get down!” Lissandro shouted.

  Louis dodged. A whiz passed over his head. The wall behind them exploded in dust and stones. The Nuharinni had resumed throwing rocks. They want the door to collapse with us on this side. They needed to get out. Now.

  “You first, Selen. Run for it!” Kilda shouted over the primitive squalls.

  “No!” Selen snapped back. A rock hit a column. A block from the ceiling broke off and crushed half of a statue and two Nuharinni. Cries pierced from under clouds of dust.

  “Run for it!” Louis yelled.

  Selen joined the dog and pulled the animal inside the short tunnel. Louis knew the rest of his companions would argue to be the last to go. “Together!” he shouted.

  The three of them turned around at the same time and hurried towards the doorway. Louis was the first to reach it. A spear hit the wall a few inches from his shoulder. As a reflex, he ducked his head. With his left hand, he searched for Kilda, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her behind him. Louis didn’t look back but scurried through the tunnel, never letting Selen and the dog out of his sight. A rumble loud as thunder resounded all around him. Dust rose that made his eyes smart. The door had collapsed. He prayed Lissandro had made it. Once on the other side, Selen grabbed him.

  “You made it,” Selen exclaimed.

  The familiar coughs behind Louis indicated that Lissandro had made it too. He turned around. His joy shattered. Her wrist in his hand told him that it was no vision. Kilda stood, upright and stunned, half of a spear protruding between her breasts in a trickle of blood. Slowly, her eyes shifted to him. Her legs let go under her, and she collapsed onto the floor. In disbelief, Louis still held to her wrist, as if the contact with his hand would keep her alive.

  He heard shouts. Lissandro and Selen knelt on Kilda’s side. Selen cupped her head to help her breathe. Blood ran from her mouth as she tried to mutter words.

  “The spear passed right through her,” Lissandro said, helpless.

  Kilda looked at her friend with hopeful eyes where tears of fear already pearled. Louis knelt over her and slipped his hand in hers. It was getting cold.

  “Can’t we save her?” he asked, wishing for a miracle. A miracle. “Lissandro, don’t you have powers?”

  Lissandro’s face swiveled towards him. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Lissandro said, aghast.

  “I have no idea, and I’m not asking, I just…” Louis didn’t know. All he wanted was for her to live.

  Lissandro hesitated, twisted in all directions, and screamed with anger. With an abrupt gesture, he rolled up a sleeve. “If I do this…” Lissandro wept. “If I do this, I lose myself. I lose everything.” His fist hit the ground. “It may not even work in this shit world!”

  Selen laid his hand on Lissandro’s shoulder. “No one forces you,” he whispered kindly.

  “She is my friend,” Lissandro said, his forlorn eyes gazing at her then at them.

  Louis bit his lip. He knew Lissandro meant that Kilda was the only friend he had left. Lissandro sighed. He took deep breaths. Progressively, Lissandro’s long teeth shone in his mouth. He bent over Kilda in an embrace, but it wasn’t a kiss he gave on her neck. Once his lips withdrew from her skin, leaving two tiny, crimson holes, he bit his wrist and lowered the bloody wound over Kilda’s mouth.

  “Selen. Take out the spear,” Lissandro whispered.

  Selen grabbed the wooden stick and pulled it out of her chest. Kilda barely reacted. Her hand in Louis’s was now cold as stone. Gently, Louis laid it across her bosom. Lissandro removed his arm and rose. Her mouth smeared in red, Kilda lay lifeless. Louis stood up.

  “Is she dead?” he whispered.

  “Not more than I am,” Lissandro muttered. He stepped to their bags. “You have to leave.”

  “We can’t leave you both here,” Selen objected.

  “It’s too late,” Lissandro sighed. “We don’t belong to the same world anymore. I will take care of her. Go. Return to your city and save what is left of your people.” As Selen bowed to take a bag, Lissandro shook his hand in the air. “No. Leave the books with me. Just take the food. You don’t have the strength for all this, but I have. I will cross the mountains and leave them at the cabins. Go now. Please.”

  Louis stared at Lissandro in commiseration. He remembered his betrayal. His conscience fought to pardon him. As in love with justice as he was, to forgive the victims was easier than to forgive the outrage on Selen. Yet, as much as he wanted to exonerate Lissandro of both deeds, he couldn’t. “Lilo… I didn’t want this to happen.”

  “It’s probably the last time we’ll see each other,” Lissandro said, looking back at Louis with a sad smile. “I won’t cause you any more trouble.” A tear ran down his cheek. “I did love you, you know.”

  Louis choked back a wave of feelings and shifted his gaze. Selen grabbed Lissandro in his arms. “I forgive you, Lilo. Whatever you did to me, I forgive you. You are my friend.”

  Gently, Lissandro pushed Selen’s arms away. “It’s over, Selen.” Please, take him away, Louis heard in his mind. The process confused him. Had he heard the words or was his mind so drained?

  Louis threw the bag with the plants over his shoulder. Take care of yourself, he thought towards Lissandro.

  Who cares? Lissandro answered back.

  And Louis knew. Their friend hadn’t needed to touch them; he had been through their minds. For how long? How many times? This was something Louis couldn’t forgive. “Come, Selen,” he whispered.

  Selen picked up the bag with the food and joined him, his head dropped to hide the stream on his cheeks, the dog following close on his heels. His eyes on his boots, Louis crossed the hall and walked down the stairs towards the jungle. His heart tight with affliction, not once did he look back. Amidst the gatehouse’s debris in the high grass, he gazed ahead. He left a wall for another, a green, mournful desolation bathed in an ashen light. If they
took the same path and hurried, they could make it to the pass before the night. Assuming Selen followed, he went on. The colossal forest closed around him.

  Louis stared at the palms, the overgrown bushes, the creepers. A vegetation he had read about in encyclopediae, where parasites crept through the eyes to nestle in the brain. It was the refuge of three-eyed lions, dark as a moonless night, man-eater monkeys, and sabre-tooth deer. They stirred in the darkness. Their eyes shone behind the trunks. They drowned him in their mysterious shrills. No nightmare was unimaginable. At the end of the world of this strange, foreign world, he had landed in the midst of the incomprehensible. With sweat on his brow, he slashed on the nearby stems with his sword and tramped of aversion on the sprouting grass between the half-buried cobbles. But no step took him further away. No violence made him feel more secured. Though on the path, he felt as if in a maze, passing in front of the same tree again and again. The terror that the track he followed would disappear, like the Red Sea closing on him, hastened his breathing. The air reeked of damp, rotten corruption. It was the earthy atmosphere of a sepulcher. More dread filled him. Not the fear that ridiculous, naked, gesticulating copper bodies pursued them—though the thought had crossed his mind. It was a fear much deeper, unseen, and thus more frightening. A fear of ghosts lurking, crouching between the trees, coming out of the earth to capture him, bound him to this place by his regrets. To make him the prisoner of a hell he would never leave. That they would never leave. He forced himself to turn around. With utter placidity, his face looking away, Selen followed.

  The dog growled. A trail in the grass cut their path. The leaves swayed. He waited. Nothing. Louis went on. An eye on the spider webs, they used the tree-bridge again and cross the ravine. On the other side, he gave his group a rest until the snapping of a twig sent his heart into a race, and he made them resume their walk.

  After an eternity, the jungle unclenched its grip on them. The warm sun shone on his skin. To his great relief, they faced the mountains again.